Starship Troopers: The Bug War
by huey61
Summary: A fanfic sequel to the controversial novel. Continues the story of Juan Rico and the Roughnecks as they journey throughout Heinlein's universe defending Terra against the Bug threat.
1. Chapter 1

Background:  
I think that every reader comes across at least one book in their life that makes them sit down and go "well, damn". For me, that novel was Starship Troopers. After reading Troopers for the first time, I closed the book, put it down on my bed, and stared at it for five minutes. Then I picked it up and read it again. Then I had to return it to my library. When I slipped the novel down the "Return" slot, I felt like I had just abandoned a part of me to age unceremoniously in a library for a century. Within days, I had ventured down to the borders to acquire my own novel. I did so, and am in the process of reading the book for the third time. But I didn't stop there. No, I have attempted to read every single critical review of the novel the internet has to offer. Having largely done that, I realized that my favorite time-killer, would no doubt have more to offer. There are three other ST fics. Three. Two of them seem to have been abandoned, and the other is a one-shot. Now my career in fanfiction has not been very successful in the past, but the urge to write again I was feeling was invigorated greatly by the lack of material. My favorite book, and one of the greatest novels of all time should have more than three fanfics. It deserves more.  
So for this is reason I have decided to break out my pen for another try at writing fanfiction, so that I may pay homage to the book that formed my life's philosophy. This is largely so that the important facts that the book espouses (whether you hate them or love them) will not be forgotten. So I present to you, my unofficial sequel to Robert Heinlein's Starship Troopers: Starship Troopers: The Bug War

_"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."_

-George Santayana, Spanish born philosopher and poet.

**Starship Troopers: The Bug War**

**I**

"…Lives the story of Private Rodger Young."

The _Roger Young _trembled as her Cherenkov drive was deactivated and she entered into the planet's orbit. I was already in my capsule by that time of course, and so were all the other Roughnecks. We had been lucky on the last couple of drops, and that had me concerned. A company that doesn't lose any of its troopers for a couple of rounds gets lazy, see? Sad as it is, one or two people buying the farm does good to keep everyone else from purchasing some real estate of their own. Since nobody had bit the dust in the last two drops, the whole squad was liable to get killed due to relaxed attitudes. I figured it would be a good idea to warn the boys to stay sharp. Clicking on the universal com I began to speak,

"Listen up you apes, I just want to remind you, don't go in thinking the bugs ain't gonna shoot any better than the last batch we iced. Watch the guy next to you and _stay_ _on the bounce_."

It was a dumb statement, of course, all arachnid warriors had the same aim as the next one, but the words served their purpose. Hell, last time I'd been here most of my platoon was smeared. Back then I was just a Private, a greenhorn fresh out of boot surrounded by blooded warriors. And they had died, and I had lived. There was no doubt in my or any other officer's mind that we were going to lose a lot of people. My reveries were cut short by the Captain's voice,

"Lieutenant Rico, we are go for deployment. Good luck and be sure to kill a bug or two for the folks up here"

"Can do Captain, and my boys are gonna kill enough bugs for every navy man in the fleet. Cooks included."

Another stupid statement, the majority of Navy personal were actually women, not men. There was a loud clicking sound as my capsule was chambered into the launch tube. I barely had time to brace myself for the launch before I was reintroduced to all the nooks and crannies on the back of my power suit for the umpteenth time. Then I was in open space, hurtling towards the surface of Klendathu.

A cap trooper gets his name from his delivery system: a man sized capsule that gets blasted from the ship by a series of launch tubes situated in the hull. Commissioned officers first, cause no one likes a guy who gives orders but doesn't do diddly squat himself. Then come the non-coms and privates, cause an officer isn't an officer unless he has someone to give orders _to_. The capsules the troopers reside in are designed to go through several stages. Presently, I had finished the pre-atmosphere stage and was now entering the "sky" of the bug planet. This is when things start to get really hot, as the friction between your capsule and the air can get pretty intense. So much so in fact, that the outer layer of the capsule melts and peels off. Lucky for the fella inside though, there are a few more layers.

I briefly stopped monitoring my own capsule status and turned to scrutinize the part of my heads-up display that kept track of the other infantrymen in my outfit. Noting no errors in the drop so far, I returned to my own and saw that I was close enough to deploy my first 'chute. I did so and received a good jolt, indicating it had ripped off. I was still falling too fast, so I blew my next shell and loosed the second parachute. This one tends to last longer, before stress rips the metal cables and you go into free fall again. Still monitoring my status and the status of my battle-group, I blew the charges on my final shell, destroying the last layer between myself and the enemy atmosphere. The last part of the capsule attached to me was the harness I was strapped to. Burning off the straps, I pushed the frame away, paralleled myself with the planet's horizon, and swanned my arms. Now the momentum from my launch was completely gone, and it was just like a regular sky-dive, except that you're wrapped up in one of the most dangerous devices devised by man, hovering over an enemy planet crawling with giant spiders that want to kill you. Other than that though, yeah, just like a regular sky dive.

Now understand something about a Mobile Infantry power suit, it isn't a machine designed solely for killing. There are other pleasant little devices that provide a trooper with intelligence about his surroundings… so that he may more effectively use the tools that _are _designed solely for killing. One such intelligence device I was employing right now were the suit's snoopers. Snoopers are these high tech goggles that you pull down over your eyes with a flick of your head. The goggles can see infrared and have a zoom capability so a soldier can see what's going on miles away. These little devices can be a trooper's best friend, and they certainly are one up on the peepers evolution equipped us with.

Taking advantage of the zoom capability, I could see that the landing zone was relatively clear, save for the few dozen bug warriors milling about. A bug isn't actually a "bug" in the literal sense of the word. The phrase "bug" is just another one of those friendly little nicknames that soldiers have given the guy in the opposing trench since man has been fighting wars, which last time I checked has been a period about the length of… forever. Political correctness is all right and proper on the home front, but when an enemy is _shooting _at you, it's awful hard to be friendly to the guy. It's even harder when the object of your mal intent isn't human.

No, a bug has more in common with a spider than an insect. But this statement is also untrue in some ways. Ultimately, the beakers back on Terra could never really decide just _what_ a bug is in respect to earth life, so they settled on the term "psuedo-arachnid", which to this old soldier seems like a fair enough text book definition. But to the troopers tasked with taking out the garbage, the "psuedo-arachnids" will always be "those goddamn bugs".

The animal itself is an ugly thing, all legs really. A bug's got eight of 'em, four on each side. Long, spindly stalks with sensory hairs popping out between the joints. The legs actually stretch higher than the body, but at the bugs…uhh… "knees", they taper back down into sockets located in the flank of the bug body. The body is one of the things that separates the "psuedo" from the regular arachnids: instead of the two segments that a spider has, a bug has just one main segment made up of little interlinking ones that slide in and out of each other when the body undulates, rather like an armadillo's shell. The main segment is kind of a grub shape about a quarter meter wide and two feet long. This it the body part that contains the nerve case. Bug warriors don't really have a "brain", there's a whole other caste that takes care of that. The nerve case just controls the body and relays images to the brain bugs deep underground. A big maw made up of two pairs of mandibles (I saw a _solifugae _once when I was a kid on a business trip with my dad in Yemen, vicious looking critter) sit on the face of the grub, and they are always twitching. Our scientists figure that before the bugs started building weapons, these were the main means of attack and defense. They aren't poisonous, but they are sharp as hell and the muscles behind them are really powerful. On Shola I saw a bug that had dropped it's gun use them to take a trooper's arm off, power suit and all. A pair of arms come out from under the bug, and the hold what appears to be a metal pipe, but is actually a ray gun. Two compound eyes sit above the mouth, and when you come across a pair you can see them watching you from behind the jail-cell made by the legs, calculating, thinking.

I might have once mentioned in conversation that a bug looks like a mad-man's conception of an earth spider. Now that I think about it, the term "daddy-long-leg from hell" seems more accurate.

I decided it would be unhealthy for me and my troops to land on top of the beasties, so I deployed my final parachute, ending my freefall and sending me on a slow drift towards the ground. Normally this would be a bad idea when dealing with other humans or the Skinnies. But for some reason, bugs didn't employ surface to air weaponry. They fought in space or on the ground, but not in-between. I could easily lose the 'chute and start down with my jets, but that fuel is expensive and I'm in no rush. The relative stability of the parachute would allow me to use some of my lower-caliber weapons. Snapping my assault rifle out of it's grip on the suit's back, I clicked the safety off and took aim through the rifles scope, which in turn corresponded with some gizmos in my helmet that made it look as though I was standing right in front of the bug. Then I squeezed off a three-round burst.

The first shot hit a warrior's nerve core, which popped in a spray of green goo. It stood stock still for a few moments before finally collapsing onto it's side. The surrounding warriors scattered, jaws writhing in screeches I was too far away to hear. Swarming around they unleashed a haze of fire in all directions, barely missing each other in the process. No problem for me though, the gun's beams will dissipate after about 25 or so meters, and I was beyond range. Within a few more seconds I had downed two more warriors, and the rest scrambled into one of the nearby tunnels that pockmarked Klendathu's surface. No doubt they would wait until their attacker arrived to examine his kills, then spring the trap and gun him down in a storm of laser blasts. Snapping the assault rifle back into place, I snatched a fire pellet from the explosives belt around my waist. Holding out my hand, I set the incendiary device for a 10 second delay and then dropped it into the hole I was now about 50 or so meters above. Then I grabbed one of the high explosive grenades located on the other side of my belt and lobbed that into the tunnel. The explosion from the HE grenade closed the tunnel just as the fire pellet activated, ensuring that any bug standing too close to the entrance was a crispy critter. I could hear the screeching now.

Losing my parachute, I used the suit's jump jets to finish my descent to the surface. Moments later, my feet touched the ground. The battle could start now. Looking upward I could see the red and white parachutes of the men under my command, floating lazily downward towards my position. I was later told that the Roughnecks were the first group to hit dirt in the second invasion of Klendathu. This means I had the dubious honor of being the first man on the planet.

Nobody brought it up, and I didn't care.

**End I**

--  
I am always happy to have my work critiqued, whether for content or mechanics. Please don't hesitate to leave long reviews pointing out any spelling errors or commentary on the actual fic. All feedback, positive or negative is welcome.  
Thank you for reading and please stay tuned for more.


	2. Chapter 2

"Though I walk through the valley of shadow and death I shall fear no evil, because I am the meanest motherfucker in the whole damn valley"

-American infantry in Vietnam

**II**

The last boot contacted the ground about 40 seconds after I hit dirt. About ten seconds too late. For the Mobile Infantry, speed is everything, and you can't afford to be too late… or too early. Most of the time when a Cap Trooper buys his farm it's because he'd stood still for too long, or he rushed and overlooked something. I needed to get things back on schedule, but make sure not to overdo it.

"Ok men, Command has tasked us with seizing area mark 4QFJ06. Platoons will divide into four groups to each take one side of the grid. Platoon A is in charge of the left flank. Gomez, go there now and string your men in a line the length of the side."

I heard a "Yes Sir" and Gomez was jetting away followed quickly by his platoon. I turned back to the remaining Roughnecks and gave out similar orders to platoons B and C. I sent my Sergeant with platoon C to guard the top of the grid, and turned to platoon D's 2nd lieutenant Boll.

"Boll, position your platoon along the South Line. You'll need to be careful, intel says there's a large bug mound near your area. _Move trooper_!"

"Can do Lieutenant! Alright you dogs, you heard the boss! On the bounce and by the numbers, _gogogo_!"

Soon the only sign that they had been there was the vapor trail left by their jump jets. Besides myself there was now only one other person in the drop zone. Junior Officer Mike Bearpaw was a Cadet assigned to me by the O.C.S. back on Sanctuary. I was tasked with judging him and filling out on his Form 31 whether or not he was commissioned officer material. Time to find out.

"Mr. Bearpaw."

"Sir?"

"You and I have a special job. You see, while everyone else fights to maintain the set perimeter, we are going to sweep back and fourth through the _inside_ of the perimeter, killing any bug we see and closing all holes we find." Bearpaw paused, and seemed to think for a moment. I could tell he was having some difficulty with the concept, so I decided to ask him what was wrong.

"What's the matter trooper, Bugs make you wet your suit?"

"No Sir! It's just that…"

"Hmmmm? Speak up Bearpaw we have to move soon."

"Sir! This area seems really large for two troopers to patrol, Sir!"

"You think so huh? Son, let's start moving and I'll be happy to explain some things to you."

Jumping hard will set off the suit's jets. I did so and so did Bearpaw, and we began flying in a general northerly direction.

"Mr. Bearpaw, you've experienced the life of a Cap Trooper as a grunt, and now you're bucking to try out as a leader. Now there's a reason why two unlucky S.O.B.'s have to patrol this large area all on their lonesome, can you guess what that reason may be?"

"Uh…"

"Stop right there! Don't even try and top off that verbal static, I will tell you right now that you can't. But don't worry about it, because no grunt can figure out the answer to my question. That's because the _right _answer is a well kept secret amongst officers. Listen real hard soldier, I'm about to share that secret with you."

I had to wait a few seconds to continue, because we had spotted a group of bugs standing on a hill directly in front of us. In perfect unison, Bearpaw and I landed amongst them and fried them with our hand flamers. Then we blasted a nearby hole and moved on. Continuing on, I said,

"The truth is Mr. Bearpaw, assuming that I pass your Form 31, as an officer you will never have enough soldiers to properly do what's asked of you. Do you honestly believe that in the chaos of war, command has the capability to judge exactly how many soldiers are needed for every single little scenario that comes up? Certainly not, it's impossible. The area will always either be 'too big' or the soldiers 'too few', and if the Big Wigs really screwed up an ugly mix of the two. That is the way wars have always been fought, and always will be fought."

Again I had to cut myself off, this time to answer a question from my Sergeant about closing bug holes directly outside of the perimeter. I told him to smash anything that was in visible range of his area. Then I continued on with my lecture, all the while being on the lookout for enemy activity.

"However, since wars have to be won by somebody, certain tactics were developed to compensate for this unfortunate truth. The most prevalent of these is a quick response to case by case scenarios. Ultimately, a soldier has to use what he's _got_, and he has to do it quickly and efficiently. Success in battle does not depend on your ability to throw a huge number of people at a single problem, usually because you don't have that opportunity. Rather, your victory depends on whether or not you have analyzed your tactical situation correctly and responded to it accordingly. The key is in quality, not quantity. And if you screw that part up, then you better get the heck out of Dodge, or dig in and prepare yourself, because things are gonna get real ugly, and real fast".

We reached the Northern line, and I spoke briefly with my Sergeant and Platoon C's 2nd lieutenant, told them to straighten out their line, and headed back South for the second sweep.

Now that we were closer to the middle, I ordered Bearpaw to set his suit's Y-rack on automatic. I did so myself, and when I hit the ground a few seconds later my ears were greeted with the friendly _CHUFF!_ of the explosives being fired by the weapon.

And it is an interesting weapon, based on the designs of the old XXth century mortar. During my experience at Boot Camp, then Sergeant Zim had pulled one out of a storage room containing such remakes of outdated weaponry and showed us how to use it. This was so that we may better understand the weapon we would be using later, and it did help. The demonstration certainly taught me why the Y-rack could only be fired on the ground, only an idiot would shoot that thing off in the air and then try to deal with the recoil. The automatic setting allowed for a trooper to cover his back without having to take his focus away from his front. You just had to make sure that you didn't hit the fella next to you. Bearpaw and I were close enough to each other that we didn't have to worry about being in the blast area.

Now that was something that made me feel uncomfortable about this whole damn operation. We (the ground troops) were a lot closer together than we were used to. An MI is used to having his space, and here we were, practically in each other's suits! But that's what the plan called for. After we had established and gutted our square, reinforcements were supposed to arrive en masse and with heavy equipment. Then we would continue to hold the area until the Command Center had been established in the middle of the square. At that point, the Roughnecks would be relieved by another company and could catch a break, at least until we were recalled to assist in the assault on the tunnels. That was why we were here after all wasn't it? Klendathu was one giant POW camp, and hundreds of our comrades sat waiting directly underneath us even now. My thoughts were interrupted by Boll:

"Hey el tee, you remember that bug mound you warned me about earlier? Well the thing is moving now, like some kid threw a rock at a bee hive. My troops are gunning th…"

The message was interrupted briefly by swearing and then an explosion.

"Shit, sorry boss, Bugs didn't want me to finish my message. Anyways, things are getting hectic, and we could sure use some help down here. You know, the special kind?"

I knew exactly what kind.

"Mr. Bearpaw, when we hit the South line in few seconds I will stay to assist 2nd Lt. Boll. You will turn around and head back North, and when you arrive have the Sergeant break off and assist you with mopping up."

"Yes Sir!"

I sent a brief message to my Sergeant explaining the situation, and got the affirmative back. By this time we had arrived at the Southern end of the perimeter, and I jetted off to Boll's position.

I grabbed my rocket launcher, and there was a clicking sound as I loaded the first shot, a nuke.

**End II**


	3. Chapter 3

"What is the only provocation that could bring about the use of nuclear weapons? Nuclear weapons. What is the priority target for nuclear weapons? Nuclear weapons. What is the only established defense against nuclear weapons? Nuclear weapons. How do we prevent the use of nuclear weapons? By threatening the use of nuclear weapons. And we can't get rid of nuclear weapons, because of nuclear weapons. The intransigence, it seems, is a function of the weapons themselves."  
- Martin Amis, 20th century English writer.

"So? If two guys are having it out, 'intransigence' doesn't matter if one of them is turned into radioactive goo before the other one."  
-General Diennes, justifying the use of nuclear weapons against the bugs two weeks before his death in the first battle of Klendathu.

**III**

I followed 2nd Lt. Boll to a hilltop directly behind the main battle line. When we arrived, I was provided with an excellent view of the battlefield. Platoon D was scattered in a rough line throughout the hills and dunes of the area. According to the maps that Intel had provided, the foreground was supposed to be flat. I couldn't tell though, because the area was a churning ocean of insect life.

Some troopers towards the rear were taking pot shots with their assault rifles, randomly selecting bugs to shoot. Most of the platoon however, was situated on the line, blazing away with their hand flamers. Towards the far end of the line, I saw a rocket fly and strike a dune that had a large group of bugs on it. The dune exploded in a spray of sand, mixed with the twisted legs of the thrashing bugs.

I didn't have to look long before I spotted the bug mound. Essentially a giant ant-hill, a bug mound is intended for the rapid deployment of bug armies. This way, the bugs could send a strike force to the surface much faster than through the smaller bug holes, which would take more time.

The mound shot up at least 200 feet into the air, a big ugly boil on the flat plain situated next to the hilly area the Roughnecks had put down on. The thing was alive with bugs, who were swarming out in greater numbers every second, replenishing the ones that Platoon D was smearing. Clicking the safety off of my launcher, I turned on the universal com and issued a warning,

"Listen up Platoon D, I have a nuke that I'm gonna send straight to that bug hill. I'ma' count to three, and when I get to three, I want everyone to ground themselves and blink, HARD. But make sure that you don't wait to long to open 'em back up again, or else one of the survivors might sneak up on you."

I got a set of affirmatives from Boll and his noncoms. Then I began my countdown.

"One!"

I took aim with the launcher, and allowed the sensors to locate the target. I got a _beep_ affirming that the target had been found.

"Two!"

The Roughnecks continued to fire at the oncoming swarm. A large pile of bug corpses was now forming at the edges of the line.

"THREE!"

I yelled and pulled the trigger. All of the Roughnecks rooted themselves and closed their eyes. I couldn't exactly see this, because I was ducking into my suit, but I have expectations of my soldiers, and they know them, and they meet them.

Even with my eyes closed, I could still see the silent, bright flash. Then my audio receptors picked up a high pitched _WHEEEEE_ as the air within the blast radius boiled. Soon the flash had dissipated, and I opened my eyes to see the cloud, in the shape of a mushroom, rising high into the air. Underneath the mushroom, the remains of the bug hill super-heated and turned into magma. The cloud slowly sank into the liquid slag, finally disappearing in a haze of wind and debris that struck my position.

The powered armor is designed to tackle that problem though, and I had no trouble standing up in the massive windstorm. Our multi-legged foes, however, were not so lucky. As the last remnants of the explosion (other than the giant crater, which would be there for a while) vanished, I looked out onto the plains that had previously been a chaotic ocean of bug warriors. Now, it was a massive grave yard of shriveled bodies and twisted limbs. Many bugs had fallen onto their backs and curled up like a dead spider in the heat, and their legs were jutting into the air, making the area seem as though some exotic grass had sprouted during the explosion.

Any bugs that had survived the blast were soon finished off by troopers with assault rifles. Soon, the cap troopers of Platoon D were the only living things in the area.

Which was exactly as it should be.

I contacted the other platoons to see what the situation was. I got the all clear from all of them. Next, I called my Sergeant on our private channel, to ask if he and Mr. Bearpaw had finished carving out the interior. His response was enthusiastic,

"Yessir Lieutenant! The area is all clear and ready for occupation."

" Good work, Dad. How did Bearpaw do?"

"He did just fine. A little jumpy at times, but then again, so was another cadet I met shortly after he was passed."

I had to ask,

"Am I still jumpy, father?"

There was a pause on the other end, and I knew that Emilio Rico was thinking very hard. Or messing with his kid. Maybe both.

"Son, I can definitively say that you are the most hard-assed officer that I have ever met in my career as an MI. Now cut the chatter and call down the heavies."

Well, I was awful relieved. I think that the best compliment any fella gets in his entire life, usually comes from his old man. It makes me pity people who have lousy fathers, or none at all. It really does.

**End III**


	4. Chapter 4

Hello, its the author again. Just wanted to butt in here and say a few things. First and foremost, I apologize for the delay. Believe it or not, I know in my head how this story is going to go. I have in my head little bits and pieces of plot that I am going to use to write the _The Bug War_, up until almost the end. The problem is the stuff in between can be a little frustrating, and that is the most time consuming part.

Second off, I want to thank all the reviewers. It was your kind words that encouraged me to sit down and openly confront the "in between spaces" as I refer to them as.

To answer your question T.A.G. , _Starship Troopers_ is a controversial novel because of its militaristic attitudes, Robert Heinlein's views regarding "rights" and his criticism of how we run our democracy. Due to his supposed "anti democratic" views and his bashing of communism, many critics accused him of being a fascist. The misconception with all this is that Heinlein dislikes democracy. What Heinlein advocates in his novel isn't anti democracy, it's merely another type of democracy, in this case, a Meritocracy, which is slightly different than our own system. As I am sure you know, we are a republican democracy with universal suffrage. Heinlein's Terran Federation is a democracy were suffrage isn't universal, but is instead given only to those who have served a term of federal service on their own merit for the good of their society, hence "Meritocracy". Heinlein's point was that man had to fight for his rights, that they were not "endowed" upon him, and only people who put their lives on the line for their society deserve the right to say how things get run. These Hobbesesque theories did not strike well with some Americans, Liberal and Conservative alike. Hence the controversy.

To respond to you Kel Jack, thanks for the criticism. I am fully aware of the short length of my chapters, and it is something I am trying hard to work on. This is the longest chapter written so far, but I believe things will get extended just a bit more in later chapters.

Thanks again to my other two reviewers Narueye and blue c 84, don't hesitate to leave more reviews at all.

Enough babaldygook from the author, time to begin.

--

_Whenever in future wars the battle is fought, armored troops will play the decisive role..._

_ -Heinz Guderian, German General and developer of the Blitzkrieg style of warfare._

**IV**

"Come again Mr. Rico, you're last message was unclear, over".

Goddamn bug weather.

"I said, 'The designated LZ has been cleared of hostiles, requesting reinforcements, over'". There was a brief pause before,

"Come again Mr. Rico"?

"We've killed all the bugs, send down the bloody reinforcements"! Another pause. You just can't get good help these days…

"Copy that Mr. Rico, reinforcements are en route".

Well. Glad that's over with. I turned on my universal comm. and spoke to my troopers,

"Alright kiddos, maintain your positions and sit tight, backup is on the way. They should be landing directly in the center of the grid, but if something goes wrong and they miss the LZ, I want you to go ahead and move to cover them until they get where they're supposed to be".

I activated the jets and jumped to the center of the square, where the additional troops were supposed to land. There I met my sergeant, and I asked him if he had seen any sign of them yet. Casually, he turned and said

" Oh, they'll be here in about two minutes".

"…You don't say"?

I was pretty doubtful. I looked up, and I couldn't see anything through the overcast that had been interfering with the communications earlier. Something about Klendathu's atmosphere screwed with our comm. systems. Get a sciency type to explain it to you, I sure as hell can't. Suddenly there was a roaring sound, followed by a series of pops. Then the clouds parted, and I could see the red and white parachutes of the MI.

"Right on time", said Sergeant Rico.

I checked my clock, and sure enough, two minutes. I just don't understand how that old man does it. The sky divers floated down in a gentle fashion, making the mechanical terrors seem as harmless as cherry blossoms on the wind. Soon all the soldiers were on the ground, and turning to my compatriot, I said,

"Let's go welcome our guests, shall we?"

We hopped over to our fellow invaders, and were greeted by the sight of a soldier in a command suit ripping into a private. Golly, I hadn't heard that kind of swearing since boot!

"You terrific moron! Are you so fucking _stupid_ you can't keep your own parachute to yourself? Look at this mess, you damn near killed me"!

I could see the figure motioning to a tangled heap of wires and parachutes. That was a pretty rare occurrence, but it did happen from time to time. The officer continued with his tirade,

"If you ever do something that _terrifically_ fucking stupid again, I'm going to throw you out the goddamn airlock on the _Kawa' _and strap you to the goddamn hull so every goddamn passer by can see the goddamn corpse of Private Miller, the goddamn boy who couldn't control a goddamn parachute"!

The figure turned to me, and I froze. Still huffing and puffing, he smiled and said,

"Greetings Lt. Rico, I am General Takeda".

Right. General Takeda. He was the designated ground commander for Operation Molehill, the rescue of our comrades-in-arms from the bug prisons.

I took a closer look at my superior, trying to get a better idea of who I would be working with. It's hard to tell a man's height inside the generic outfit of a power suit. There are clues though, and an experienced soldier can make a rough guess. Takeda didn't look much higher than 5'5, but a fierce facial complexion more than made up for it. There was a consistently defiant look in his brown eyes, and his mouth seemed to frown perpetually. But his most defining feature was the bristly, gray flecked handlebars mustache that crowned his upper lip. Only a man of Takeda's rank could escape with such a blatant hygiene violation. The mustache wiggled as he spoke,

"My compliments on your swift and efficient take over of the beach head. Now we can get to work… just as soon as those _goddamn tanks arrive_!"

The sudden explosion at the end of the sentence caught me slightly off guard, and I nearly forgot my formalities.

"Yes sir! Thank you sir".

He nodded his head. "Lt. Sherman, Lt. Ney, come here please".

Two men in command suits approached. One, Sherman I presume, was a scraggly looking character that had a nasty disposition. Scrawled across the chest plate of his suit in an ugly mustard yellow were the words, "Find 'em and light 'em".

The other fellow, Ney, was a faintly prissy looking guy with a delicate, black mustache gracing his upper lip. Takeda introduced us. "Lt Rico, this is Harold T. Sherman, of Sherman's Shockers, and Charles Ney, of Ney's Nullifiers". We exchanged greetings.

"Gentlemen, please have Lt. Rico tell you where to send your troops while I get on the horn about that armor". Takeda trundled off, presumably so that I could talk without the unpleasant background swearing.

"Right, Lt. Ney, send your boys to these areas here". I pointed to lines A and B on a holographic map Sherman had produced. Ney nodded, and then he spoke with a thick French accent,

"Vhen ve arrive, shall I have your troops return to your posishun for a break"?

I thought briefly, before responding with a negative. They didn't need a full on nap, they could make due with slacking off a little when the reinforcements arrived.

Ney nodded again and shouted into his mouth piece for his soldiers to set off.

Not much later Sherman and his troops had done the same. General Takeda was swearing up a storm, and his bodyguards were looking around nervously. Eventually, he stopped, and sauntered back over to where I was standing. Smiling, he said,

"Ok, armor's on the way. In the mean time, let's set up camp, shall we?"

A dozen cargo crates loaded with supplies had come down with the second wave, and it was in these that we would find the equipment to set up our command post.

A camp designed for housing troops in powered armor has a lot of key facilities. There's the regular tents of course, the oldest and most basic of all military structures. We set these up first. Next, one of Takeda's bodyguards opened up a crate and poured out a pile of metal poles and bars. We fit these together to form long, rectangular chassis. Then we cracked open a box containing Bot Guns, smart firing plasma turrets that would help us out on sentry work. We attached these to the chassis, and turned them up right to form automatic sentry towers, which we lined the perimeter of our camp with.

We spent the next hour performing actions like this. Fuel stations, waste stations, food stations, etc. Nearly all of the buildings were designed to service the powered armor in some shape or form. A soldier would walk up to a fuel station, for example, and the tank would send out a little tube that would insert itself into a nozzle on the troopers jetpack. Thirty seconds later, he steps off with a full tank and a happy grin, and the next guy in line stands up for his own service.

It's works similar with the waste station, accept… backwards… you know what, I won't get into that.

The last part of the camp we built was a medical/processing station. This would not only serve to heal our own troops, but the rescued prisoners would be fixed up and debriefed here as well.

As I snapped the last pole into place on the med station, I heard a thunderous howling sound coming up from directly above me. Looking up, it didn't take a second to see the source of the deafening roars.

A squadron of Weevil Tanks was descending slowly on our positions, their jets (located on the undersides of the tank and five times as large as an MI's) were shooting out gouts of fire, attempting to slow and control the fall of the thirty ton metal monsters.

War is a funny thing. It looks to be constantly changing and shifting, yet really, it progresses much slower than most people think. I know that doesn't make a whole lot a sense, but let me elaborate.

Gunpowder is a good example. When the Europeans first started using guns, they didn't get rid of bladed weapons completely. Swords and pikes were still used for a couple hundred years afterwards, in fact, it wasn't until the advent of automatic weapons that melee weapons were phased out completely, right? Wrong. Bayonets were used for years to come, hell, some were even used during the wars of Foundation that preceded the creation of the Terran Federation. Even my armor has a laser blade. It's primarily utilitarian, but we are taught to use it as a weapon when you're in a real tight fix. So the deception is that one, fancy new type of weapon can get rid of an older, tried and true one.

Now I am not aimlessly rambling here, there is a point to all of this, and it's the tanks. You'd think that with the creation of powered armor, a platform that allows a small group of soldiers the firepower of an entire army of the XXth century, that tanks would be absolutely useless. But they're not. When a battle starts up, it has all sorts of little niches that need to be filled (or you'll lose the battle). Just like how sometimes you need to pull a blade on someone, sometimes you gotta use a tank.

Weevil Tanks are fantastic machines. They got their name from their long barrels, and their ability to shift into a walking mode, which makes 'em look just like a bug with a long snout, a Weevil. That's the real dandy thing about the tanks, is their ability to switch from ordinary treads to a walker. The treads are sort of separate, like the pontoons on a catamaran, only there's four of 'em. They body of the tank sits on a platform on the middle, and when it hits a steep mountain side, little gears and sliders in the treads make them shift from a horizontal rolling position into four legs that can be used to walk. I've seen the tanks climb up an 80 degree slope using the legs. Some guys say they can go 90 on a planet with the right gravity. The walking is helpful, cause you can waste a lot of fuel moving a vehicle of that size with jumps.

When the war started, the tanks only had their normal rail guns that fired metal slugs. You can use them to blast a bug hole without having to send MI in too close, or go through the unnecessary expediency of an orbital bombardment or air strike. They make good anti air weapons too, when the weather's good. A good shot with a Weevil can knock a small satellite out of orbit. I know, because that's one of the final tests that the tankers have to perform before shipping out.

Later on in the war, when the humans started developing ways to dig the bugs out of their underground fortresses, some fella in R&D got the brilliant idea of attaching large laser drills to the tanks in place of the cannons. That made burrowing a hell of a lot easier.

These Weevil's were equipped with the drills, and Takeda Group would be using them to dig our way down directly to the prisons, all while the rest of the army was tasked with seizing the planet.

There was a heavy THUMP! When the first Weevil hit the ground, followed by a quick succession of others. They had landed a few hundred yards from the camp (so as not to accidentally squish it), but it took them less then thirty seconds to roll up to the fueling station and replace the resources they had spent on the way down.

One Weevil with bright white markings and an odd looking black chrysanthemum had stopped in front of Takeda's strategy tent. The hatch popped open, and another man of Japanese descent poked his head out. He was wearing a simple green jump suit, with a leather helmet and an oxygen mask which attached to a cylinder that hung on his hip. The man leapt out with great gusto, and stepped over to where the General and myself were standing. General Takeda piped up in a pleased voice,

"Kenshin, my old friend, how goes it"?

The man, whose tag read "Captain Uesegi", smiled merrily and responded,

"It goes well, General". Then he frowned, "I apologize for the delay in our arrival. The logistics crews on the _Kawanakajima_ were… less then competent, shall we say"?

Takeda laughed. "I say, they have their heads stuck up their asses"!

The Captain blushed at the General's choice of words, and then switched his attention to greet me.

"Lt. Rico, my crews and I look forward to working with the famous Roughnecks in rescuing our comrades. Everyone knows how hard the MI got hit in the first battle, but most people don't realize that the Armored Divisions took heavy losses as well".

I nodded my head at this information. "Things were so chaotic down here the first time, that I never even saw a tank. But no worries, Captain, we'll dig your boys out along with the rest of ours. It's a promise".

Uesegi seemed pleased at this comment, and was about to respond when General Takeda piped up again.

"I hate to interrupt the warm fuzzies, but now that you're here I should call Sherman and Ney back so we can lay out the plan and get this show started".

"Yes General"! Uesegi and I snapped our salutes out in unison.

It was, indeed, time to get this show on the road. I looked forward to dishing out some serious payback to the bugs.

**End IV**

Have reviews, will write.


End file.
